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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685619">Strip It Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee'>Cobrilee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Inappropriate Soulmark, M/M, Meet-Cute, Stripper Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:47:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' decision to become a stripper may not have been the smartest decision he's ever made. On the other hand, maybe it was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/480565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>658</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Strip It Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is yet another idea prompted by artemis69's idea of, (paraphrased) "What would happen if you had a soul mark that was completely inappropriate?" I'm sure it won't be the last. :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are many problems with having the words "strip for me, sexy" as your soul mark. </p>
<p>Unless you're Stiles Stilinski, and then it's more like a badge of honor. (He never fails to point it out when Jackson is being an asshole again, sneering and insinuating no one will ever find him attractive.) He grows up with the confidence of knowing someone, someday will think he's sexy, enough so that they'll want him to strip for them. </p>
<p>No one ever told him the biggest problem of all would come from the decision to become a stripper in college. He learned that for himself, the hard way, when the first time he heard those words they came from an unwashed, greasy asshole with a beer gut.</p>
<p>He was horrified. This was his soulmate? But then, to both his relief and growing dismay, he heard it again, this time from several young women who were part of a bachelorette party. </p>
<p>Now, two years into his job, he's heard it more times than he can count. He wonders if one of them truly was his soulmate, and he'll never know. </p>
<p>Danny had rolled his eyes that first night when Stiles stumbled to the bar, shoving his wrist in his and Isaac’s faces and whining that he’d heard it from seven people already and his shift wasn’t even half over. The eye roll had been followed with, “What did you expect? Your soul mark is someone asking you to strip, and you decided to become a stripper.”</p>
<p>While Stiles lamented his complete lack of thinking things through on that end, Isaac had helpfully contributed with, “It’s okay, everyone knows you’re an idiot.”</p>
<p>“I’m not an idiot,” Stiles protested, annoyed. “You realize I got offered the job about an hour before I went on stage, right? Everything happened too fast for me to consider the implications.” He should have, even still, but he was never going to admit to Isaac that it was in any way his own dumbassery that contributed to the current situation.</p>
<p>“Nothing you can do about it now,” Danny said with a shrug, and shoved a tray of drinks into Stiles’ gesticulating hands. He fumbled them but recovered without spilling, then spun around and flounced off in irritation.</p>
<p>These days, he’s so numb to it he doesn’t even hear it anymore. </p>
<p>“STRIP FOR ME, SEXY!”</p>
<p>Except the really loud ones.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>“I need a new job,” Stiles whines, draping himself face-first over the bar. Danny squeezes lime juice on the back of his neck and he bolts upright, glaring.</p>
<p>“You’ve been saying that at least once a week for two years.” Danny tosses the lime wedge into the drink he’s making. “It was old after the third or fourth week.”</p>
<p>“Besides, you make more money here than you’d ever make stocking shelves,” Isaac adds, snagging the drink and the two others Danny’s already prepared and set on the tray. “Just suck it up and shake your dick at horny businessmen for lots of cash.”</p>
<p>Stiles makes a face and plucks up another lime wedge, throwing it at Isaac’s barely-clad ass as he rushes off to serve the order. “Classy as ever, Lahey!” he yells, and Isaac gives him the finger while still expertly balancing the tray.</p>
<p>“Coming up next, put your hands together for Axel!”</p>
<p>Stiles groans. “Who the fuck agreed to that name?”</p>
<p>“You did.” Danny smirks and Stiles makes another face, because that’s all he seems to know how to do these days. </p>
<p>He sashays his way through the crowd of--predictably--horny businessmen, rolling his hips lewdly into the faces of several men eager to thrust fifties into his waistband. Finstock hates that he starts his routines in the crowd, but Stiles maintains it makes him more money and he’s going to keep doing it.</p>
<p>He nearly stumbles when he glides by a table with several attractive men. Not that that’s a rarity, but the one in the middle stands out like a homing beacon. Hair so black it should have stars in it, eyes that are kaleidoscopic even in dim lighting, biceps like tree trunks, and the most perfectly sculpted beard he’s ever seen in his entire life. </p>
<p>Stiles is fairly certain he’s in love. He’s definitely in lust. Fortunately for him, boners are de rigueur in his line of work.</p>
<p>He catches the man’s gaze as he passes them in his quest for the stage, and he’s gratified at the way the man’s eyes widen slightly. They follow him as he climbs the stairs and he pauses at the top, one stiletto-clad foot propped on the final step, stretching out the length of his thigh and rounding out his ass, offering a tantalizing peek up the hem of his frayed denim shorts. The gorgeous customer’s eyes track down his leg and back up again, swallowing. Stiles waits until those chameleon eyes land back on his before he winks, pulls himself up to the stage, and strikes a pose to the downbeat of Britney’s “Toxic.”</p>
<p>Normally when he’s stripping he’s entirely focused on playing the character: sexy, playful, seductive, captivating, enchanting. He twists and twirls and gives his victims “come hither” stares with heavy-lidded eyes sparking with promise and pleasure.</p>
<p>Tonight, he’s drawn to the man like they’re magnets. No matter how far he gets away on the stage, trying to work the crowd, he’s pulled back to the side where the most beautiful man he’s ever seen waits for him, drinking him in with avaricious eyes. Stiles dances for him, and only him. He’s only distantly aware of bills under his feet, fingers tucking them into his shorts, hands grazing whatever part of him they can touch on the way back. </p>
<p>When the number ends, he makes his way to the edge of the stage, not ready to walk away. He’s irrationally afraid that if he goes back behind the curtain, his mystery man will have disappeared by the time he gets back out to work the floor.</p>
<p>The man’s companion apparently has no intention of letting that happen. He catches Stiles’ eye and winks, and Stiles tries not to flinch. The man is handsome, but there’s a thin veneer of sophistication over an underlayer of pure lechery.</p>
<p>“Derek, now’s the part where you ask the nice dancer to strip for you,” the older man encourages, and his new fantasy--Derek, apparently--rolls his eyes.</p>
<p>“Strip for me, sexy,” he deadpans.</p>
<p>Stiles falls off the stage.</p>
<p>“I think I broke my ankle,” he bleats, and Derek’s eyes snap to his, shocked.</p>
<p>He’s not entirely sure how long they stare at each other, but it’s long enough that the older man’s grin shifts from smarmy to delighted. “Really, Derek? This one? Finally?” </p>
<p>Derek breaks eye contact with Stiles long enough to make a face at the other man--okay, yes, they’re soulmates--and hiss, “We don’t know for sure, Peter.”</p>
<p>“I rather think this young man’s reaction is proof enough,” Peter suggests, reaching out a hand to pull Stiles to his feet. He does, gingerly testing out the ankle, but it’s just sore. “You’ll forgive Derek for not being sure. He’s a doctor. This isn’t the first time he’s heard his soulmark words.”</p>
<p>Stiles can’t help it, he barks out a laugh. “I’m a stripper whose soulmark words are ‘strip for me, sexy’,” he informs them. “Apparently neither of us are rocket scientists in the career department.”</p>
<p>Derek gives him a slow, spreading smile. “Maybe we’re meant for each other.”</p>
<p>Stiles slides into his lap, crossing one leg over the other at the knee, and loops his arms around Derek’s neck. “Something tells me there’s no ‘maybe’ about it."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Random bit of trivia - this is now the third fic of mine that's titled after a former 1D member's song.</p>
<p>Please come say hi on <a href="https://cobrilee.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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